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Monday, October 10, 2016

Amethyst and Flame


Leaves of green 
Rust away 
Like the hulls

Of neglected boats
Sleeping at their moors.

Along the quiet avenues
They skitter down
Loosing their bonds
Blanketing the swales
In auburn
Russet and gold.

Laughing children
Skip through them
Sounding as
Dry bones rattling
Or parchments rising
From dusty confines
Along the Dead Sea.

I haven’t the will
To rake them.
Why remove
The only color
This poor city ever sees
Besides the broken amber glass
Of whiskey bottles
Thrown against curbs?

Autumnal winds
Will soon gather them
To deposit
Along fence lines
And limestone foundations
As beds prepared
For virgin snows.

Before their going
I selected a single maple leaf
Amethyst and flame
To pin against my mirror
As reminder
That all creation
Is magnificent
In its spiraling
Final waltz.

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